


A Love Brewed Blue

by RyuuSenai



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Bisexual Disaster Sokka (Avatar), Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Zuko (Avatar), Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Sokka (Avatar) Has ADHD, Strangers to Lovers, The Jasmine Dragon (Avatar), Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), forgot to add those with the first chapter lol, idiots to lovers, imagine if mother mother mcr and twenty one pilots had a lovechild, just a dash of angst for flavor, realized its not as slow burn as i thought, that's what zuko's music sounds like, zuko writes music
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27703043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyuuSenai/pseuds/RyuuSenai
Summary: Zuko was a faceless musician with a crippling caffeine addiction. The new barista at his favorite coffee shop – who was entirely too hot for his own good – asked him out on a date. But is this man only into Zuko for his fame? Or could their gay panic spark something new and exciting?
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Sokka, Toph Beifong & Zuko
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy this! This fic has become my baby, and I'm so excited I can finally release the first chapter.  
> As an aside, I will be tagging more characters, background relationships, and other tags as I release each chapter.

Zuko strided into the coffee shop; it was his favorite one in town. " _Flaming Beans_ " – as cheesy as the name was, the coffee was really good, so he couldn't complain. The walk there, as well as the calming atmosphere, always served as a nice break from working at both the Jasmine Dragon and on his music. When he started writing music, he could have never even dreamt of his career taking off to this degree. It was downright overwhelming at times, as deadlines and criticism plagued his mind.

"How can I help you?" Zuko looked up from his phone, and his train of thought crashed and burned immediately. His good eye widened just a little; the man behind the counter appeared to be a new employee, as Zuko made daily trips to this café and never saw him before.

He took a good look at the man, observing each small detail. The guy's warm tan skin, his puka shell choker, the charming couple of piercings in his ears, and his eyes. Holy _fuck_ , his eyes. They were such a clear cobalt blue; he swore he could see the vast ocean in them for a moment.

Zuko stiffened as he realized he was just standing there staring at this man – Sokka? He thanks Agni for name tags – for a good minute. He raised his head, his long bangs shifting out of the way of his scar, and he saw the barista's eyes flicker to the left side of his face for a moment. But his smile didn't waver, likely trying to stay polite for the customer's sake.

Clearing his throat, Zuko finally answered, "Tall black coffee, five espresso shots."

Sokka's smile faltered for just a moment, his eyes widening. Zuko suddenly felt very warm across his cheeks, unsure if Sokka recognized his voice from his music or if he was just taken aback by how strange his order sounds as a newbie.

Chuckling, he punched the order into the register. The grin Sokka gave him was now one of amusement, rather than formality. "I fear for the sanity of your future cardiologist," he joked, picking up a cup and a pen. Zuko felt relief wash over him, mostly sure the barista didn't recognize his voice. He silently laughed through his nose at the joke, his face still mostly static - a survival tactic from childhood he never truly ditched.

"Can I have a name for your order?"

"Zuko," his voice was raspy, a mixture of nerves and the natural gravel in his tone. He watched as Sokka wrote down his name, noticing the little glances he gave Zuko that made his chest tighten.

The whole time Sokka rang him up and made his drink, Zuko just stared at him as his mind wandered, _Damn, his jawline is so defined. And that coffee smells so good. I wonder if he smells like coffee even after he leaves work? How long has he been working here? Have I just been missing his shifts? I might come in here a couple extra times a day so I can see him more. Oh Agni, he looked at me again. Those eyes could cut through my soul. Damn, this is such an inconvenient time to be gay–_

His thoughts were cut off as Sokka called his name, walking back towards the counter, freshly brewed drink in hand. Zuko took the cup from him, his heart beating harder than it probably should be without having his caffeine first. "Thank you," he stated, locking eyes with the barista for a moment.

Sokka gave him a toothy grin. "Please, come again soon." Something in his tone made Zuko blush. It was as if he was pleading the customer to return; like he truly _wanted_ to see him again.

Blue eyes glanced down, then back up Zuko's frame before meeting his golden gaze once more. Sokka winked, and it felt like he dragged a response out of Zuko's lungs. "I will," he practically whispered, turning to leave the café.

After he walked out the doors of the shop, he began to process what had just happened. He started making his way down the road, heading towards his uncle's tea shop. Thought after thought raced through his head, each one laced with gay panic: _Fuck, the hot new barista was totally flirting with me! Or was he just being nice and I took it the wrong way? Wait no, the wink! Agni, what should I do now?!_

He took a sip of his coffee, the bitter taste grounding him. He glanced at the ink on the side of the paper cup, sighing at the writing. " 'Zukko'? Who the fuck spells it like that?" he muttered to himself. Though he did smile at the little winky face drawn next to his name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time he could see the quaint shop titled "The Jasmine Dragon," Zuko had finished his coffee. As usual, he circled around the back of the shop, dropping his empty cup in the dumpster so his uncle wouldn't find it.

When he entered the back door into the kitchen, he was met with his uncle heating a kettle. "Did you enjoy your break, Nephew?" Iroh greeted him warmly.

"Yeah, it was a nice walk," Zuko responded, tying his apron behind his back.

Iroh turned away from the stove to flash a loving smile at Zuko. "I am glad to hear that, Nephew. A clear mind calms the waters downstream."

"Whatever you say, Uncle," Zuko huffed out a laugh, wondering if he'll ever understand half of his uncle's anecdotes. He gathered his clavicle-length inky black hair in his hands, twisting it into a high bun to keep the strands out of his face.

The rest of his shift was as mundane as normal. Most of the patrons were older folks unwinding for the day. A few entitled people complaining about every little detail gave Zuko minimal trouble. The most eventful part of the day came when a regular that Zuko was acquainted with stopped by to chat with Iroh.

Since it was near closing time, Iroh sat down with the regular and her guide dog at a table. He brewed her a complimentary cup of tea, blathering about nothing in particular as the last few customers finished up their stays. Zuko supposed he and this girl are friends, though they never spent time together on their own. He couldn't recall a single instance he and this young lady, Toph, spoke face-to-face outside of the shop. Texting, and the occasional phone call when either of them would get fed up with Toph’s speech-to-text messages, was the closest they got to a normal friendship.

The sun was low in the sky, likely to set within the hour when Zuko began wiping down tables and washing dirty dishes. As the business quieted down, his mind was allowed to drift off. _Today was so boring. Holy shit, I need another coffee. I wonder if that barista is still there? What was his name again? Sokka? Agni, he was so hot. I wonder if he's into men? Fuck, I hope he is. There's no way a straight guy would wink at me like that, right?_

Realizing nearly all the closing chores were done, Zuko sighed and decided to sit down with his uncle while the final customers finished their tea.

“Oh hey Hotman, how’s your new album coming along?” Toph asked as Zuko settled into the chair adjacent to her.

Zuko’s heart dropped. “Shush up! There are people here!” he hissed.

Toph scoffed, “What? I didn’t say anything about your ‘secret identity’.” She emphasized the last two words with air quotes.

Admitting defeat, Zuko sighed, “Actually, I’ve got it scheduled to release tonight at midnight.”

“If you don’t send me the Spotify link, I’ll sic Badgermole on you,” she threatened, though there was a fond lightness in her tone.

The Australian shepherd at her feet glanced up at Zuko, seemingly uninterested in the man. He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I will.”

“Sweetness,” Toph smiled warmly, her eyes sliding shut with content.

The last customers had departed, leaving the three of them in the empty shop. Zuko stood up, making his way to the front door and locking it. He reached over and turned off the neon open sign in the window. He helped his uncle clean tables, sweep, and take the trash out. Iroh locked the door behind Toph when she decided she had mooched enough free tea off him.

Zuko stepped into the shop's kitchen and swiftly removed his apron, hanging it on a nearby hook on the wall. “Uncle, does anything else need to be done?” he asked as Iroh took off his own apron.

Iroh smiled at him, his amber eyes soft and familiar. “Everything is done. Thank you for your help today, Zuko. Even if it was a slow day.”

“Of course. I’m going to take a walk, I won’t be out too long,” Zuko declared, though he was partly asking permission. Iroh nodded to him, and he took his leave. He exited through the back door and started his trek to Flaming Beans.

While he walked, Zuko admired the setting sun as it flooded the outskirts of Ba Sing Se with a pink glow. He would never admit it, but Zuko was a sucker for the sunset, especially right at the golden hour. The beauty of the scene gave him a melancholic yearning, desperately wishing he could share that moment with someone.

The fifteen minute walk to the coffee shop didn't feel long enough for Zuko, but nevertheless he walked through the front doors. The café was quiet, not a single customer was sitting at any of the tables. Zuko reveled in the tranquil atmosphere; the smell of coffee and the gentle singing from the store’s radio calmed his racing thoughts.

Then his thoughts raced once more when he spotted the – incredibly _bored_ – employee leaning against the front counter. Toned forearms rested against the wood beside the cash register, a pointed chin sat upon the arms. Sapphire eyes, half-lidded and glazed over from fatigue, stared off into the empty lobby of the café. The front door closed with a soft _thud_ behind Zuko, causing those striking eyes to dart towards him.

Zuko felt pinned in place by that gaze, seconds feeling like hours as gold and blue stayed locked on one another. Then recognition zapped through Sokka’s expression; his eyes widened, a fresh glimmer added to them, his idle frown had morphed into a wide and genuine grin. Zuko wondered for a moment if he needed to wear sunglasses to look at him, considering how _bright_ his smile was.

“Zuko!” Sokka exclaimed, and honestly? The absolute joy in his tone should be illegal with how it made Zuko’s heart skip a beat.

Finally able to move his heavy feet, Zuko walked towards the other man. “Hey,” he said, embarrassed with how his voice crackled a little from nerves. He stopped right in front of the counter, eye level with Sokka.

Taking a deep breath, Sokka seemingly prepared himself for what he was about to say. “Okay so, I know we’ve only talked once before for like five minutes, and this might seem a little weird, but that’s okay, because if I don’t shoot my shot, I will never forgive myself for what could have been. Ya’ see, you’ve been on my mind nonstop all day, because holy shit you are _gorgeous_. But, um, yeah, are– uh, are you gay?” Sokka spoke a mile a minute. Realizing what he said was worded oddly, he tried again, “I mean– are you into men? Cause like, um, I am and I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date sometime? Okay yeah, there’s no way this _doesn’t_ sound creepy to you.” His words trailed off into a mumbled mess of anxiety and cringe.

A laugh rippled through Zuko, surprising himself at the animated sound. His laughter died down, and he cleared his throat as he realized exactly what Sokka had said. He wanted to go on a date with him. _Sokka_ , the hot and charismatic barista, wanted to go on a _date_ with the brooding and introverted Zuko. This all felt uncanny; otherworldly; _fake._

“ _You_ ,” Zuko started with emphasis, “want to go on a date with _me_?”

Sokka’s face lost its sparkle; his eyes dimmed significantly. “You don’t want to?” he asked, pure sorrow in his tone.

Why did that make Zuko’s chest ache? _You just met him today, why are you getting so worked up over this?_ he thought. _Besides he probably already knows you’re famous, and just wants you cause you’re The Blue Spirit._

Despite his inner turmoil, Zuko felt guilt stab through him. “Wait, no. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just,” he gestures a little at Sokka, “you’re, well, _you_.” The other man made a face at this, and Zuko quickly amended his statement. “I mean– You’re way out of my league. It’s hard to even consider you’re serious,” he huffed out a breathless laugh.

“I’m dead serious,” Sokka responded. Zuko froze, brow quirking as his gold eyes met cobalt ones. “Listen, I thought _you_ were the one out of _my_ league,” Sokka chuckled.

Zuko turned a rosy shade of light pink, and _giggled_. Sokka was certain his heart would explode at any moment. Releasing a small content sigh, Zuko stated, "To answer your question, yes I am gay."

The light returned to Sokka's face, his smile becoming a sun of its own as it warmed Zuko from the inside. "So would you wanna go on a date? I know this really nice restaurant across town," Sokka asked, cheeks turning a deep scarlet.

"Sure," said Zuko. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he had been smiling at Sokka; only noticing when the brunet returned it with a grin of his own.

"Awesome," Sokka breathed. He gazed at Zuko for a moment, his expression relaxed and pleased. Blue eyes then shot wide open. "Oh yeah! You probably want a coffee now, huh?" The two men chuckled, and any awkward energy in the room dissipated as they shared their cheer.

Zuko nodded, "Yeah. Same as earlier: tall black coffee, five espresso shots."

Punching in the order, Sokka grinned. "You gonna be able to sleep tonight with all this caffeine?" he teased.

"Bold of you to assume I'd be able to sleep even without it," Zuko snarked back, pulling his wallet out to pay.

"Do you need some help with that? I've been known to be pretty good at tiring people out," Sokka purred with a wink, a smirk tugged at the edges of his lips.

Zuko nearly choked on his spit, face burning beet red. He coughed a little, and Sokka looked thoroughly pleased with how flustered he was. After composing himself once more, Zuko muttered, "At least buy me that dinner first."

“Oh, _darling_ , with pleasure,” Sokka hummed, an air of playful teasing in his voice. The barista grabbed an empty cup and a pen, mirroring the action from earlier that day; except this time it appeared he was writing more than just a name and smiley face. He swiftly shoved the cap back onto the pen and got to brewing Zuko’s drink.

Zuko repeated his actions from earlier as well: staring at Sokka while his mind wandered. _I wonder if he really is interested in me? He seems too genuine to only want me because of my music. But then again, you can never be too careful. Oh no, he rolled his sleeves up, fuck he’s so hot. Does he work out? Agni, I would give anything to see him after a workout, panting and sweating. Just like he would be after–_

“Your hair looks really nice like that,” Sokka commented, turned away from Zuko as he stood in front of the espresso machine. That single statement yanked Zuko back to reality, ripping any thoughts out of his mind.

His brain buffered for a moment before Zuko could speak again, “What?”

Sokka turned around, facing Zuko as he walked over to another machine by the counter. He pointed to his own small ponytail, saying, “Your hair, it’s in a bun now. It looks really pretty up like that.”

Zuko is positive his face could burn his hands with the sheer heat from his blush; the mere concept of Sokka calling him _pretty_ stole the air out of his lungs. But then realization struck him. His left hand instinctively shot up to feel his scar, a mortified look in his eyes as he became aware he had left the mark completely exposed. “Shit, I forgot to take it out,” he cursed under his breath, reaching up to tug the bun undone. But his hand froze when it touched the hair tie. He could feel Sokka’s gaze on him, so he glanced up to meet it. The other man almost looked, sad? Disappointed? Concerned, maybe? Zuko recognized the emotion, but could not _for the life of him_ identify it.

“You don’t have to take it out,” Sokka nearly whispered, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the two men.

“It doesn’t bother you?” Zuko’s hand fell from his hair, moving to absentmindedly scratch at leathery skin just under his eye socket. He didn’t even realize he was doing so until Sokka’s eyes traced the movement. He clenched his fist, forcing his hand to his side.

Sokka’s face relaxed a little, the concern melting into a sort of bittersweet smile. “Of course not,” he assured. Zuko was grateful he didn’t ask _what_ would bother him, but then he supposed it was kind of obvious after he inadvertently pointed it out.

Zuko released the breath he had been evidently holding; his shoulders relaxed after the tension faded from him. “Okay,” he murmured, more to himself than anything.

Sokka returned his attention to brewing the coffee, a pleasant and authentic smile dancing across his lips. A beat of comfortable silence fell over the café, save for the generic pop song that faintly played over the lobby’s speakers. Zuko checked his watch, it was about seventeen minutes before eight o’clock. He didn’t usually stay this long chatting with the baristas, so it was nearing the shop’s closing time.

Carefully shoving the lid on the cup – and nearly spilling it in the process, much to Zuko’s amusement – Sokka handed him the coffee. “Here ya’ go, _handsome_ ,” he cooed.

Zuko offered him a small smile, “Thanks.” He reached for the cup, his hand brushing Sokka’s briefly and _holy fuck, his hand touched Sokka’s._ He knows it would sound stupid if he said it aloud, but that was the most physical contact he had experienced from anyone other than his uncle in literal _years_. So it's no surprise that his heart started to beat faster than most of his songs; he should know, he _wrote_ them. For a moment, he actually started to count his heartbeat like the metre in a song. _One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four. Three, two, three, four._ Okay yeah, his heart was going _at least_ a hundred and twenty beats a minute.

Once again, Sokka liberated him from his rushing thoughts, “I wrote my number on the cup. Feel free to text me whenever you get the chance, and we’ll figure out a time for the date.”

Zuko met Sokka’s eyes again, electric blue zapping him to attention. He nodded, a soft grin finding its way to his face. “I will,” he sighed. Sokka gave him a large, goofy grin. He turned and made his way out of the shop.

“Have a good night!” Sokka called after Zuko.

Zuko glanced back over his shoulder as he held the front door open. He gave a wide, kind smile in return. “You too, Sokka.” And though he didn’t know it, those three words made Sokka’s chest tighten in a way that would be _slightly_ concerning in any other situation.

Taking his time on his walk back to the Jasmine Dragon, Zuko replayed the last half hour in his head a good dozen times. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Sokka, _the hot new barista_ , asked him on a date. And he said _yes_ , despite the risk it may prove in regards to keeping his alias a secret. Sure, it seemed like Sokka was a trustworthy and sincere person; however, Zuko has been known to be wrong about people in the past. He knows, firsthand, just how deceptive someone can be. And he refuses to allow himself to get hurt like that again.

Yet, here he is, unable to think of Sokka as one of those manipulative people. Something in his gut was shoving him into trusting this man he had _just met_. He eventually resolved to follow his gut, but only to a degree. Right then and there, Zuko made a promise to himself to proceed with caution. Nothing more, and nothing less. He just hoped his instincts would prove right about Sokka.

Realizing he drank the whole of his coffee while analyzing his situation, he tilted the cup on its side to read what Sokka had inscribed. True to his word, there was a phone number written in black ink on the cardboard cup. Alongside the numbers, once again, was “Zukko” in bold printed letters. But this time, instead of the winky face next to his name, there was a smiley face with hearts for eyes.

Zuko huffed out a chuckle, endeared by the doodle, but simultaneously annoyed once more by the misspelling of his name. Nevertheless, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and created a new contact containing the phone number. Approaching the Jasmine Dragon, he double checked he had typed the number correctly, and ducked to the back of the building. He threw the cup in the dumpster. Logically, he knew his uncle would love him no matter what; but he saw how Iroh would crinkle his nose in disgust at people drinking Starbucks at the grocery store. And how his eyes roll when customers ask if the Jasmine Dragon serves coffee as well as tea. Zuko never knew the reason behind his uncle’s revulsion, but he was too scared to ask. Thinking about it now, he noted this fear was most definitely caused by his father and how if he deemed something Zuko did was “dishonorable,” he would be punished. Despite nearly a decade of therapy, that fear had stuck with him. He wonders if he’ll ever truly get over what his father had put him through. The answer he decided on was: _probably not._ But he’ll find a way to cope with it; to accept what had happened was now in the past, and to somehow keep moving forward with his life. Maybe his uncle was rubbing off on him this whole time?

“How was your walk, Zuko?”

 _Speaking of Uncle_ , Zuko thought. He kicked his shoes off in the entranceway to the apartment, locking the door behind himself. “It was great,” he finds his mouth saying, shocking himself with the enthusiasm he had displayed.

Iroh beamed at him from his spot on the sofa, “Wonderful! Supper will be ready soon, go ahead and wash up.” Zuko nodded, heading into his room to change out of his work clothes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zuko sat in front of his open laptop and unlocked phone, his gaze flicking between the two devices every few seconds. The larger screen had a countdown timer on it, indicating how much time was left until Spotify and Google Music were scheduled to release his album to the public. _Twenty three minutes and fifty six seconds. Fifty five seconds. Fifty four seconds._

Zuko glanced back at the smaller device as it displayed the _"Compose New Text"_ screen with Sokka’s name at the top. He knew he had procrastinated his first text to Sokka enough already, nearly four hours having passed since he received his number. But everytime he began writing a message, it just didn't feel right. He got stuck in a loop of typing, debating, deleting, then typing, debating, and deleting again, for more than a couple hours.

His gaze shifted to the computer again; he sat and stared at the clock until it hit exactly twenty minutes. A guttural groan slammed its way out of his chest, the motion causing him to hunch over. He folded in on himself, knees supporting elbows, and hands supporting his head. He furrowed his brow, eyes narrowed in frustration and trained on the fabric of his red flannel pajama pants.

His phone – having auto-locked from inactivity – buzzed, the vibrations reverberating through his mattress loudly. He opened the notification he had received, and was greeted with one of Toph’s horrendous speech-to-text messages.

**TOPH: Hey seafood hot men how much longer tell that album**

Zuko deciphered the message with ease, familiar with the way her phone “corrects” words – he had been thrown for quite the loop when he first read “seafood hot men” in a text from her; it took him an embarrassingly long time to understand it was supposed to say “Sifu Hotman.” He was glad her phone didn’t give many problems reading his texts to her. He shot back:

**ZUKO: Eighteen minutes and counting. Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about sending you the link.**

**TOPH: You better not had badger moles ready to bite your ass**

For a moment, Zuko just admired the fact Toph’s phone managed to pick up the word _ass_ , but wouldn’t be able to spell her own name. With his phone in his hand already, he supposed he should try once more to text Sokka.

He was frustrated it took him fifteen minutes to come up with eleven words, and he became even more frustrated each time he read through them because of how awkward and unnatural it sounded. He glanced back up to his laptop. _Thirty one seconds. Thirty seconds. Twenty nine seconds._

He huffed out a strangled sigh, looking back down at his phone. He hit send before he could reread – and inevitably delete – what he had written.

**ZUKO: Hey Sokka, Zuko here, I’m the guy from the coffee shop.**

He cringed as he saw the message slide up into the newly formed conversation. _No turning back now_ , he declared to himself. He glanced back up to the laptop, watching as the number descended. _Here it comes._ Only then did he feel the familiar anxiety of releasing new content hit him. His stomach did cartwheels, much to his dismay, and his head spun vaguely. _Six seconds. Five seconds._ This was his most personal album yet. _Four seconds._ And though his music was for himself more than anything, he still feared what others would think. _Three seconds._ Maybe he should bring that up next time he has therapy? Sounds like a trauma thing, if he does say so himself. _Two seconds._ Whelp. _One second._ Here goes nothing.

The clock hit zero, and the website he was using shot confetti across his screen. If he wasn’t so nervous, he would think the flourish was charming. He swiftly closed his messages app, opening up Spotify instead. On the dashboard of the app, he was immediately confronted with the cover art of his album: “ _Banished Prince_.” The little square contained a painting of an island’s shore, foam from the sea lapping at the sand. Trees framed the image on either side. Within the ripples of the water, beautiful oranges and reds and yellows were reflected. In the middle of the drawing was a lovely beach house, the light wood of the building was illuminated in the late night darkness by a fire engulfing the structure and its contents. Truly a breathtaking sight.

Zuko tapped the album, scrolling through the song list with pride. He then copied the link to it, and texted it to Toph. She thanked him, but not without some snark for a little flair. Zuko gave one last glance at the monstrosity he sent Sokka, groaning at his inability to just _be more chill_. He locked his phone, and settled in for bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zuko found himself midway through cleaning a table, and wondered how the hell he got there. The morning had been a blur of headaches – a lesser known symptom of PTSD – and drowsiness. He barely got any sleep; whether that was caused by his typical insomnia, or if it was stress awaiting his fans’ feedback to the album, was still up for interpretation. He determined he physically could not give a single fuck about the reason, because regardless, it sucked _massive fucking monster cocks_.

There were exactly two good things that came out of his _insufferable_ morning. First off: Toph actually _liked_ his album. This was breaking news, considering it was extremely hard to impress Toph in any way, shape, or form.

And second off: Sokka texted him back. He had nearly fallen out of his bed when he saw Sokka had messaged him half an hour prior. What’s more is he didn’t just send him one text, oh no. He sent him _three_ texts within ten seconds of each other.

**SOKKA: SHIT I SPELLED YOUR NAME WRONG TWICE?? WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ME?!!?!**

**SOKKA: hey btw lol**

**SOKKA: hows your morning? :)**

Zuko’s breath had hitched in his throat, then released in an unadulterated laugh. Once his snickering subsided, he replied to Sokka.

**ZUKO: Sorry, I didn’t have the heart to correct you. And I just woke up, so it’s going alright so far.**

That was a lie. Zuko knew _damn well_ that the pressure building behind his eye sockets was leading to a migraine. And that the reason he had kept waking up in the night was likely due to his nightmares that he – _thankfully_ – could almost never remember. Sokka replied within the minute.

**SOKKA: thats good!!!**

**SOKKA: i know this is short notice, but would you wanna go on that date today?**

**SOKKA: if youre not busy, that is!**

**SOKKA: i figured id ask cause i have the day off**

Zuko debated his answer for a minute. He supposed it wouldn’t be that big of an issue that he closed that day, considering the Jasmine Dragon doesn’t stay open too late.

**ZUKO: I have work until seven, but after that I’m free. Would that be too late in the day?**

**SOKKA: nope, that works for me!**

**SOKKA: so its a date?**

Zuko swallowed, a weak attempt at forcing the lump in his throat to recede.

**ZUKO: It’s a date.**

Sokka replied with entirely too many celebratory emojis; Zuko didn’t even know half of them existed until Sokka sent them.

The diverse conga line of thoughts in Zuko’s head was ripped to shreds – evaporating without a trace of ever being there in the first place – when he overheard the young ladies at the table beside him talking.

"Did you hear The Blue Spirit's new album?" one of the girls adjacent to him asked excitedly. 

Zuko's ears perked up, curiosity swirling around his head as he listened. "Of course I did! I stayed up past one in the morning listening to it after it dropped!" the other girl responded, matching her enthusiasm. 

Looking up, Zuko glanced at the two young ladies. One of them had short black hair that stopped right below her jaw. The other had long brown hair sectioned into two braids falling down in front of her shoulders. He recognized the latter as a regular – Jin, he thinks her name was – who comes in every so often and eyes him up with a flirtatious gaze. He didn't mind her looking, as she never caused him problems, but it wasn't like he was eager to strike up a conversation with her. 

He often equated women hitting on him with being given money in a different currency. You may appreciate the sentiment, but it doesn't help you in any way. 

"What'd you think of it?" the girl with the bob cut said. 

"I personally think it was his best release yet," Jin replied with a smile. "Which song was your favorite?" 

A pleased smile danced across Zuko's face. He knew the genre of music he wrote – alternative indie rock – was not the most popular, so it was always a pleasant surprise to hear people discuss his work in public. He swears he will never get over how he managed to gather such a cult following with his, admittedly obscure, sound. 

"Definitely _'Island of_ _Embers_ ', it had such nice instrumentals." Zuko chuckled softly, still scrubbing the table under him. He personally thought that was one of the weakest songs on the album, but he was certainly glad someone enjoyed it. "Let me guess, yours is _'Walk of Fire'_?" 

Zuko stopped for a moment, the few second pause as Jin finished sipping her tea made anxiety brew in his gut. That song was the most personal one he had written yet; the lyrics were more of one long rant, than a traditional song. At some point, he had considered not releasing it because of how personal it was, but his manager convinced him otherwise. It was his comfort; a way to vent out his feelings of inadequacy he experienced from his father before, and right after, he disowned him. He absentmindedly ran his fingers along the outline of his scar. 

The sound of a tea cup being placed on wood snapped him back to reality. Jin chuckled, "You know me so well, Sho." Zuko released the breath he was apparently holding. "It's so raw and emotional. You can really feel his pain." She paused for a beat, and Zuko risked a glance at her face. Her brows were furrowed, eyes solemn, and the corners of her mouth were tugged downwards. 

"Sometimes I hear his songs and it makes me want to reach through the screen and hug him. Like I wish I could just hold him tight enough that his hurt disappears," Jin seemed like at any moment a tear could roll down her cheek. 

_That'd make great lyrics,_ Zuko thought, choosing to ignore the fact someone wanted to make him feel better. It wasn't often that someone showed concern over him, he realized. 

Sho blew out a low whistle. "Watch the angst, Jin. You sound like his lyrics," she snickered. 

Zuko stifled a laugh himself. _They've got me pegged, huh?_

Jin giggled. "I wish he would do concerts. What I wouldn't give to see him perform live," she sighed, a small grin forming on her face. 

"I wouldn't get your hopes up, you know how careful he is with keeping his face hidden," Sho pouted. 

Zuko deemed the table he was leaning over to be clean enough, standing upright and gathering the dirty tea cups to take to the kitchen. The bell above the shop's front door rang gently as the glass was pushed open. Zuko's head shot up, yellow eyes meeting blue ones immediately. There was Sokka, frozen in place with one foot in the shop. His eyes were wide, his lips barely parted; he almost looked surprised to see Zuko there, despite it being their plan to meet at the Jasmine Dragon. His reaction made Zuko's stomach clench with worry.

Then Sokka beamed a wide smile, showing off most of his teeth. He walked over to the table Zuko was cleaning off. 

"Zuko!" he squeaked, seemingly unashamed of the high pitch his voice hit from excitement. 

"Hey Sokka," Zuko replied, a small smile forming on his lips. He looked the man over: he was wearing dark blue jeans, a lighter seafoam blue denim jacket, and a white tee shirt underneath. _I guess his favorite color is blue?_ Zuko thought, a little amused. He cleared his throat, then said, "I've got about ten minutes of my shift left. Feel free to take a seat anywhere while you wait. Care for a drink on the house?"

"A water would be nice, if you don't mind." Sokka's grin was downright contagious, making heat coil in Zuko's chest. 

"Coming right up." He gave one last glance at Sokka before grabbing the cups in front of him and turning to head towards the kitchen. He caught a glimpse of the girls at the table next to him as he walked by. Sho was looking between Zuko and Sokka, not even trying to hide her staring as her cheeks flushed a rosy peach. Jin kept her eyes on Zuko, a small blush of her own on her cheeks. But when her eyes met Zuko's, there was a hint of understanding. She gave him a knowing smirk, and a thumbs up hidden behind the table so only he could see it. 

Zuko chuckled and flashed her a coy smile. Stepping into the kitchen, he was greeted by Iroh with a smile. "You seem rather chipper, Nephew. Is that your friend who just walked in?"

Zuko nodded. "His name is Sokka."

Iroh made a thoughtful hum, putting clean dishes away in the cupboard in front of him. "From the way he greeted you, he seems awfully happy to spend time with you," his eyebrows raised, a warm, but playful, glint in his eyes. 

His cheeks now burning a bright red, Zuko grumbled something under his breath. He hastily washed the dishes he brought in before grabbing a glass and filling it with ice and water. He mostly got his face back to his normal shade before he walked back into the lobby.

He approached Sokka, who had claimed an empty table in the corner of the shop by the front door. He looked up from his phone, his grin returning as Zuko placed the water on the table next to him. "Thanks!"

"Of course. Shouldn't be too much longer." He glanced around the store, the only other people in the shop being the two ladies – who had walked up to the cash register, handing money to Iroh on the other side of the counter. They passed by Zuko and Sokka on their way out, Sho still eyeing up the two men hungrily while Jin just nodded her head at Zuko with a smile.

Stepping away from the table, Zuko went over and locked the front door, turning off the light up open sign in the process. "Take your time," Sokka replied, waiting for Zuko to walk away before returning his attention to his phone.

Zuko cleaned the table the girls had occupied while Iroh swept. He washed the few dishes that were left and lugged the trash bag outside to the dumpster. Zuko always made it a point to get to the trash before Iroh could after the man threw out his back a few too many times.

By the time he walked back into the kitchen, Iroh had finished sweeping and was putting the last few clean cups into the pantry. "Do you need help with anything else before I take off?"

Iroh looked at him over his shoulder, a gentle smile already on his face. "Nope, everything is finished. Have fun with your friend, Zuko."

Zuko gave him a small nod and thanked him, taking off his apron and hanging it on a hook on the wall. He walked back into the lobby. Sokka's head snapped up, excitement lighting up his face as he saw Zuko. Grabbing his cup, he stood up and met him halfway across the room.

Zuko led him into the kitchen, taking his cup and placing it in the sink to wash later. Hesitantly, Sokka stepped into the kitchen, feeling like he was intruding as he saw Iroh turn to look at him.

Iroh offered him a friendly smile. "You must be Sokka, it is an honor to meet you. My nephew has been talking about you nonstop today," he chuckled, fully aware he was embarrassing Zuko.

Sokka's eyes darted to Zuko by the back door, facing away from him as his hand on the doorknob. With his hair still in his work bun, Sokka could see his ears were a crimson red. He bit back a chuckle and turned his attention back to Iroh. "Are you Iroh? It's nice to meet you, sir," Sokka held his hand out, and Iroh shook it firmly.

"Please, no need for formality. Just Iroh is fine." His eyes, just barely a shade darker than Zuko's, were kind and welcoming.

Sokka released his hand, looking back over at Zuko. He had turned around, smiling gently at the two. Sokka's heart did a backflip at the sight.

"You about ready?" Zuko asked. He wouldn't say it outloud, but he was really happy to see Sokka get along with his uncle. Not that he had any doubts they would, but it was still nice to dispel his anxiety just a little.

"Yeah!" Sokka gave a small, polite bow to Iroh. "I won't keep him out too late, and I'll be sure to bring him back in one piece," he teased.

Iroh bowed in return. "Have fun, and be safe."

Sokka followed Zuko out the door, the two looping around the side of the building to the street at its front entrance.

"My car's down here," Sokka said, pointing to the right. Zuko let him lead the way.

Walking up to an old beat up, navy blue Honda Civic, Sokka fumbled with his keyring. He found the right key and unlocked the passenger side door, holding it open for Zuko.

Zuko huffed out a chuckle. "What a gentleman," he grinned.

"Of course, my good sir," Sokka joked, gently closing the door after Zuko got situated.

Taking a look around the car, Zuko noticed the floor of the backseat was littered with empty energy drink cans. The car dipped a little as Sokka sat in the driver's seat. Barking out a hearty laugh, Sokka apologized, "Sorry, I only had enough time to clean the passenger seat for you."

Zuko snickered a little, turning to look at the sparkling blue eyes latched onto him. "Don't worry about it, if I had a car, I guarantee it would be about ten times worse."

Sokka shot him a grin, and Zuko could feel his heartbeat falter. The brunet faced forward, turning the key in the ignition as the car struggled to start.

A moment later, the speakers in the car roared to life. The small space was suddenly filled with angry guitar chords and drums going wild. Zuko stiffened with shock, immediately recognizing the tune playing. _"Dragon of the West"_ – a song from the album he had just released the night prior – was halfway over. The instruments calmed down significantly as the second verse started with surprisingly calm vocals.

 _"Boiling your blood, breathe fire, a face marked, scarred and dire–"_ The lyrics faded into silence as Sokka quickly turned the volume down. Zuko's heartbeat was deafening in his ears, only amplified by the fresh stillness in the car.

 _I was right,_ Zuko thought, _he recognized my voice. That's why he wanted to go on a date with me. Just because I'm sort of famous. I can't believe I'm so stupid–_

"Sorry about that!" Sokka's voice cut off his thoughts, and Zuko swore his heart stopped altogether. "I didn't realize I left my radio that loud! You probably don't like that kind of music, anyway. What do you want to listen to? I've got CDs in my glove box."

Zuko resumed breathing at some point, his brow furrowing as he shot Sokka a quizzical look. _Does he not know that's me?_

Sokka was looking at him again, his grin falling with concern. "Zuko? Are you okay?"

Snapping out of his trance, Zuko cleared his throat. "Oh, uh, yeah. I'm sorry, I was just thinking about something." Zuko cringed at his awkward response.

"I am too," Sokka started, rubbing his chin as he thought. "I'm thinking you like good old fashioned emo music."

A boisterous laugh burst out of Zuko's chest, slightly startling them both. It took him a minute to regain his composure, and he hoped Sokka hadn't noticed the few embarrassing snorts he released in the midst of the chaos.

"We've only known each other for a day, and you've already guessed my guilty pleasure," Zuko sighed.

Sokka beamed, "I've got _'The Black Parade'_ in my CD wallet." He pointed to the glove box before putting the car in reverse to navigate out of his parking spot.

Zuko opened the glove box, immediately spotting a thick, flat square case. He picked it up, tugging at the zipper that ran along the outer edges. It opened up like a book, and Zuko flipped through the "pages" of CDs. Each disk was held in place with a thin layer of plastic. He turned to the back of the wallet, seeing only a few empty slots at the very end.

Looking up at the radio, he found the eject button and soon a disk slid out of the slot next to the button. Zuko carefully grabbed it, scrunching his eyebrow at the blue permanent marker that said, _"Banished Prince."_

"Did you burn this yourself?" he asked, though it felt more like a statement than a question.

"Oh, yeah," Sokka admitted. "No stores around here sell The Blue Spirit's albums, and I was too excited to wait for it to ship."

"So you pirated it?"

"Technically, I bought it on Google Music, then downloaded it from there," his voice was high pitched, defensive against the accusation. Sokka paused for a moment before meekly adding, "I like his music too much to pirate it, I wanna make sure I support him this way. Especially 'cause his style is more _out there_ , so he doesn't get the attention his work deserves."

Zuko hummed in response, the sound indifferent. Part of him wished he could tell Sokka he was The Blue Spirit so he could express how much he appreciated the support, but he'll be damned if he lets himself get taken advantage of because he's got some fame. Not to mention how bad it would be if Sokka revealed his identity, especially considering he has Zuko's personal cell phone number.

He decided to bite his tongue as he slid the homemade album into an empty slot. He thumbed through the rest of the wallet in search of the CD he had been tasked to find. He looked through all sorts of disks, ranging from mix tapes to deluxe albums. _He really likes music, huh?_ Zuko thought.

He finally popped the black and white disk into the CD player. A heart rate monitor beeped through the speakers after Sokka twisted a knob, turning the volume up to an audible level. He made sure it was quiet enough that they could still hear each other talk over it.

Zuko looked through the rest of the CDs, stumbling upon the rest of The Blue Spirit's discography in a mixture of home-burned disks and officially released albums.

"Are you a fan of TBS too?" Sokka asked, glancing over at Zuko examining the disks.

Zuko looked over at him, brow furrowing. "T–B–S?" he spelled out, confused.

"The Blue Spirit," Sokka clarified.

"Oh." Zuko thought for a second, deciding on what to say. "Yeah, I think he's alright. It looks like you're a more avid fan than I am." He gestured to the CD wallet in his lap.

Sokka chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, I'm really into him." Zuko's cheeks blushed a light pink at his wording. "I know it sounds dumb to say this about someone I've never met, but he holds a special place in my heart. I found his music about a year after he released his first album. I was a junior in high school at the time and it really helped me get through some rough shit," Sokka sighed, a melancholic smile tugging the edges of his lips.

"His music helped me through a lot too," Zuko heard himself say. It was true; he wrote those first few songs as he adjusted to living with his uncle, performing them namelessly at small bars and cafés in the city – the latter spawning his love of coffee. It had started as a way to vent his feelings, expressing his anger and hurt through emotional lyrics and aggressive guitar strums.

Soon after, in his junior year, he met his manager and got signed to a label. Iroh was the one who suggested he stayed anonymous for his own safety, and he's glad sixteen-year-old him listened. Now it was nine years later, and he's positive he would not have been able to handle the fame had he revealed his face.

"Oh! We're almost at that diner I told you about!" Sokka pulled him back to the present. Zuko zipped the CD wallet closed, returning it to the glove box.

"Where even are we?" Zuko asked, looking out the window.

"The east side of the city," Sokka replied, shooting a glance at Zuko. "The diner is on the outskirts of town. It sucks that it's so far away from my apartment, but trust me, the food is well worth the drive."

They soon pulled into a small parking lot. Zuko observed the restaurant, its exterior had a rustic feel to it. Large windows allowed the golden rays of the early sunset to shine into the dining area. Giant red letters on the yellow siding of the building read: _Omashu Diner_.

"Omashu? Isn't that the name of a city a couple hours southwest of here?" Zuko asked as Sokka pulled into a parking spot.

"Yup! A couple of my friends and I visited there a few years back. When I first moved here to Ba Sing Se last year, I passed by this place coming home from my old work one night and knew I just had to try it out. I've been coming here almost weekly ever since," Sokka explained as the two of them stepped out of the car.

Sokka held the diner's front door open for Zuko, the older man giving him a small smile and a nod as he walked past him. A waiter led them to a booth, asking them what they'd like to drink. Zuko ordered a coffee and a water, Sokka ordered a soda. The waiter left them with the menus.

Sokka took one glance in the menu before sliding it to the edge of the table. Zuko's eyebrow raised. "You already know what you're getting?"

Nodding, Sokka pointed to the breakfast section on Zuko's menu. "Their breakfast is _the best_ , the pancakes are my personal favorite." He grinned at Zuko, bright cobalt eyes boring into his yellow ones.

Zuko broke eye contact, attempting to force the butterflies in his stomach to _quit squirming for a fucking minute_. He turned his focus back to the menu, deciding to try their omelets. The waiter returned with their drinks, took their orders, then left once more.

Zuko took a sip of his coffee as Sokka asked, "So what do you do for fun?"

Just barely saving himself from choking on the hot liquid, Zuko cleared his throat. Most of his free time was spent on his music and trips to Flaming Beans, so he struggled to find something to say. "Oh, I, uh," he fumbled. _Think, dumbass!_ "I write poetry," he eventually came up with. It wasn't a total lie, he did usually write his lyrics as poems first.

"Really?" Sokka asked. "I love poetry! Although, I, myself, have only ever been able to write haikus. Could I read some of your work sometime?" The younger man's excitement, specifically his wide grin, made Zuko's chest tighten.

"Of course," he said instinctively, not thinking about the fact that Sokka would recognize it as his lyrics. _If I get that far, I'll show him some rejected lyrics. Or maybe something I haven't released yet. I'm sure by the time I release it, he'll know it's me. Assuming I get that far with him-_

Beaming, Sokka exclaimed, "Awesome! I can't wait!"

The waiter brought them their meals. Zuko was a little surprised by how good the food was, and it was really affordable too. Sokka scarfed down his pancakes, and Zuko noted how he managed to keep the conversation going despite the older man's inability to do so at times. _Is he doing this on purpose?_ He wondered, _Can he tell I'm bad at conversations, or is this just how he is?_

The waiter placed their check on the table. Zuko naturally reached for it, but before his hand got too close, Sokka snatched the bill from him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sokka interrogated, eyes squinting.

"Um, paying?"

Sokka clicked his tongue, "Wrong answer, buckaroo. _I_ asked _you_ out, I'm not gonna let you pay for it. What kind of date would that make me?" He shot him a smirk, and Zuko felt his cheeks heat up. He was sure Sokka could hear his heart booming in his chest.

"Are you ready to leave?"

Zuko nodded, "I'm ready when you are."

Sokka slid out of the booth, check in hand as he guided Zuko back towards the restaurant's entrance. He stopped at a small counter where a lady was operating a cash register.

Zuko then held the door open for Sokka. The two walked side by side as the setting sun laid a soothing blanket of lavender over the quiet parking lot. The car's suspension squeaked as they each sat down on their seats. The last few lines of a song echoed from the speakers. Zuko reached out and rewound the track to its beginning.

Sokka sang along as the vocals came in, barely a whisper. Zuko found himself smiling at the other man as he mumbled the lyrics.

Blue eyes blinked over to him, and Zuko realized he had been staring at him.

Offering him a small grin, the younger man said, "I know I'm not a very good singer." Sokka chuckled a little before adding, "I'm sure you're way better than me."

Zuko sputtered slightly, "What gives you that idea?"

"Well, your speaking voice is already heavenly-" Sokka paused, realizing he said that out loud. His warm caramel skin became flushed with a dark crimson over his cheeks and nose. His eyes – a little wide from surprising himself – flicked from the road, to Zuko for a moment. Then back to the road. He huffed out a breathless laugh. "You know what? I'm owning that. Your voice makes me feel all warm and mushy inside," he admitted.

Donned with a blush of his own, Zuko just kept staring at the younger man. He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, his mouth suddenly drier than his sense of humor. Without removing his gaze, he confessed, "I could get lost in your eyes, and be content with drowning in their oceans."

Sokka's eyes widened again, those beautiful sapphire irises meeting Zuko's once more. The brunet smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a genuine joy that the older man couldn't help but replicate.

"Would you wanna do this again sometime?" asked Sokka. His gaze had returned to the road, but Zuko knew his attention was still on him.

Zuko thought for a moment. _Do I_ want _to?_ he asked himself. _Of course,_ _but am I allowed to? Would that be crossing a line, to make a habit of going on dates with a fan?_

He took a deep breath, his eyes sliding shut. Zuko silently battled himself; part of him wanted to steer clear of Sokka, desperate to not permit himself to get hurt. He didn't want to get his hopes up just for him to get used by a fan.

Another part of him, however, was itching to ride this out, to see where the road takes him. He never had time for romance. Or even friends, really – aside from Toph, that is, but they got to know each other as collateral damage when her and Iroh became friends – so just the thought of having someone to get close to was electrifying.

Zuko was still deciding when Sokka spoke, cutting off his thoughts, "We don't have to if you don't want to."

In a matter of seconds, Zuko's resolve had snapped, shattered into a fine dust that slipped through the cracks of his rationale. His eyes snapped open, citrine eyes wild and desperate as he whimpered, "Wait, no, that's not it."

Sokka turned to him for a moment, brows quirked with concern and lips drooping in a frown. But he didn't say anything. His gaze offered for Zuko to continue, and to take his time doing so.

Zuko took a stabilizing breath. "I would love to. But in all honesty, I'm a little scared," he sighed.

"What do you mean?" Sokka asked, his tone kind and patient. It felt like he was verbally holding Zuko's hand, the sound causing a gentle warmth to bloom in the older man's chest.

Zuko's eyes moved down to stare at his fidgeting hands in his lap. "I've, um, never done anything like," his hands grasped at empty air, gesturing helplessly as he groaned, "this. Restaurants. _Dates._ "

"Was this your first date with a man?"

"It's my first date with anyone," Zuko admitted.

Sokka huffed out a chuckle, "This was my first date with a guy." Zuko scanned his face as he spoke, dumbfounded. "I've known I was bi since I was sixteen, but I've been too nervous to actually try anything with a man. Just like a fear of the unknown kind of thing, y'know?"

Zuko hummed his agreement, then sighed, relief washing over him upon finding out Sokka was as anxious as he was. After a beat of silence, he stated, "Yeah, let's do something like this again."

A wide, authentic grin spread over Sokka's features, "Cool."

The final rays of the sun had vanished, leaving the city with only street lamps to illuminate the mostly empty streets. The two arrived at The Jasmine Dragon – only after a bewildered and concerned Sokka relentlessly offered to drop Zuko off at his house instead of his work. After a good laugh, Zuko explained his and Iroh's living arrangements – and exchanged their goodbyes. Sokka promised he'd be in contact to plan their next date; Zuko told him to drive with caution, and to let him know when he got home safely.

Zuko entered the apartment, locking the door behind him. As he passed through the living room, Iroh greeted him from a recliner. He asked how the date went, and Zuko instinctively smiled. He told him he had an amazing time, and his uncle reciprocated his smile.

Zuko excused himself for the night, closing his bedroom door. He collapsed face first on his bed. The joy he felt was downright overwhelming, but he didn't mind. This was the happiest he had _ever_ been, as far as he could remember, and he was going to bask in the feeling for as long as he could.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed. Zuko begrudgingly lifted his head from his pillow, his hand dug in his pocket for the device. He grinned at the screen, reading the messages he received from Sokka.

**SOKKA: im home! idk about you, but i had a really good time!! :D**

**SOKKA: whats your schedule for next week? im off tuesday if thatd work for you**

**ZUKO: That's perfect, I have Tuesday off as well. What did you have in mind?**

**SOKKA: hey i got to choose this one, second date is all up to you :)**

**ZUKO: Oh, okay. I'll let you know if I come up with anything.**

Zuko shuffled his favorite upbeat playlist, turning his phone face down. He nestled under his blanket, brainstorming date ideas until his drowsiness dragged him into a calm slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible TW for this chapter: a character uses the word queer in a casual manner  
> Just wanted to add the warning to be cautious, because I know some people are more sensitive to the term, even in a reclaimed sense. So if that word offends you, please read with caution. Stay safe, lovelies! <3

Sokka trudged into his apartment, his Converse sneakers hitting the hardwood floors with a heavy _clunk_ in each step he took. He made his way into the living room; a dazed, but pleased, grin was stretched across his face.

“How was your date?”

Sokka’s gaze shifted from the floor to where Suki was sitting on the couch. Her hair laid comfortably at her jawline, and she was in a loose tee shirt Sokka recognized as Ty Lee’s. She had twisted in her seat, an arm draped over the back of the sofa, to look at him.

Sokka huffed a sigh of relief as he finally flopped onto the couch next to his roommate. He shot her a playful smile, and teased, “Wouldn’t you like to know, _weatherboy_?”

“Actually, I would like to know, hence why _I asked_ ,” her tone grew stern, but Sokka knew from the way she shoved his shoulder, that she wasn’t actually mad.

Sokka chuckled, the euphoria from what he had deemed to be _the best day of his life_ still flooding his brain, “I think it went really well! I mean, he seemed a little nervous, which was honestly a bit of a surprise.”

“What, did you think just because he’s attractive, there’s _no way_ he could get nervous on a date?”

“When you say it like _that_ , it sounds stupid!” Sokka pouted, “But yeah, _kinda_.”

Suki chuckled. “Hey, that’s a good sign, though! It means Hot Guy thought you’re hot too,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

A faint pink dusted Sokka’s cheeks at the thought of Zuko finding him attractive. “I hope so,” he sighed, “because holy _shit_ is he smokin’, and he’s got that mysterious vibe to him. From the scar to the raspy voice, and the _golden_ eyes! Suki, I am _fucked!_ ” He buried his face in his hands, thoroughly embarrassed at how head over heels he was for Zuko.

“Not yet,” Suki corrected, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Play your cards right, and you might be.”

Ripping his head from his hands, Sokka flashed her as much of a “ _please_ shut the fuck up, I _know_ you know he’s gonna rail me some day if I play it cool, _but you don’t have to say it outloud_ ” face as he could. But with his entire complexion turned such a deep scarlet, and his eyes wide with embarrassment, it came across more as a “ _spirits, I fucking hope you’re right_ ” face.

Suki snorted, entirely too amused by his reaction. Sokka groaned, his head falling back against the edge of the couch. “I hope I didn’t creep him out by being too pushy,” he muttered.

“Well, did you guys plan another date?”

“I mean, yeah, but he was hesitant. He said something about never going on dates before, so I told him that this was my first _gay_ date – a ‘ _gate_ ’ if you will – and that seemed to ease him a bit,” Sokka rambled.

Suki shook her head at his terrible joke. “I absolutely will not,” she chuckled. “But if he didn’t want to have another date– ”

“ _Gate_ ,” Sokka interjected.

“Fuck off,” Suki replied. Then she continued, “If he didn’t want to have another date, I’m sure he would’ve said so.”

Sokka grunted, he knew she was right. _Zuko’s his own person_ , he thought, _he would at least tell me over text if he didn’t want to meet up again_. Sokka jerked upright, startling Suki. “Shit, that’s right! I gotta tell him I got home alright!” He scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket.

“Wow, already at the ‘call me when you get home’ stage? Should I start planning the wedding?” Suki teased, her grin seeping into her voice.

Jabbing her with his elbow, Sokka hissed, “Shush, I’m typing.”

In a moment of seriousness, Suki kept quiet while he typed. Sokka was eternally grateful she respected his requests like that, no questions asked. Though, it shouldn’t come as a surprise; she found how hard it was for him to concentrate when they dated, and had been patient and understanding since.

The first part of the message was easy, a quick “I didn’t die on the way home!” and he was done. But he spent longer than he was willing to admit debating if he should keep the second half.

“Do you think ‘I had a great time' is too much? What if I add ‘I don’t know about you’ to it? I don’t want him to think I’m too eager. _But_ I also don’t want him to think I’m cold or disinterested,” he stammered.

Suki hummed thoughtfully. “I think if you do add that last bit, it’ll sound a bit more casual,” she said.

“Good casual, or bad casual?”

Chuckling, Suki replied, “Good casual.”

And that was enough for Sokka. He hit send, and _immediately_ realized: _Oh shit, I have to schedule the second date with him now._ So he hurriedly opened the calendar on his phone. He was scheduled off on Tuesday, and silently pleaded no one would call in sick that day. Within seconds he was back in his conversation with Zuko, asking if that would work for him.

Sokka’s phone buzzed moments later, his obnoxious text tone causing Suki to roll her eyes. The two men exchanged a couple more messages, then Sokka beamed over at his roommate. “ _Gate_ number two is set for Tuesday!” he gushed.

“Nice! What’re you guys planning?” Suki prodded.

“No idea yet!” Sokka announced with pride. Suki gave him a confused look, and he clarified, “Since this one was my idea, I’m letting him choose the next one. Can’t have biased dates.”

“That’s,” Suki thought for a second, “surprisingly good dating advice, Sokka. Good job.”

“Thanks! I got them _big brain_ thoughts,” Sokka smirked, tapping his index finger on his temple. Suki rolled her eyes fondly, shaking her head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zuko had to drag himself out of bed the next morning, frustrated to wake up from the best sleep he had experienced in literal _months_ . He checked his phone. It was half past eight – his internal clock having yet to fail him in that aspect – and he had a new message from Sokka. _Holy fuck, a new message from Sokka!_

**SOKKA: mornin! hope you slept well!! :)**

Zuko hesitated for a moment. Once his heart returned to a normal tempo – _Agni, what kind of nerd calls their heartbeat a tempo?_ – he responded.

**ZUKO: Good morning, how are you doing?**

Sokka didn’t reply right away, and Zuko had to remind himself that people had lives aside from guys they’ve had one _singular_ date with. He shuffled into the kitchen, grabbed a couple pieces of toast and a banana – _that’s a balanced enough breakfast, right?_ – and made his way back to his room. He grazed on his food as he pulled out his lyric journal. He tugged on the ribbon bookmark to get to a fresh page, though there wasn’t much in this notebook yet. He liked to get a new one for each album, to keep it somewhat organized.

He had finished his “meal” by the time he located his favorite pen. He situated himself on the mini sleeper sofa he used as a regular couch – not like he had friends to sleep on it – and set the open journal in his lap. His pen touched the paper a few times, but never laid down any strokes of ink. He tapped the end of the writing utensil against the page, eyebrow furrowing in concentration.

After a solid five minutes of his eyes nearly burning holes in the empty paper, Zuko shuffled in his seat. He pulled his feet onto the cushion and turned, his side leaning against the back of the couch. He groaned at the notebook that now rested against his thighs. He desperately searched his brain’s inventory of words, but the imaginary dictionary was blank. He massaged his temples, pen still in one hand.

“Why the _fuck_ can’t I think of any lyrics?” he grumbled in frustration. Typically, he would write about whatever was upsetting him at the moment, no problem. But unfortunately for him, he did not wield the sarcastic ability to _write a song about writer’s block_ . He had never used external media as inspiration – he felt guilty doing so, considering his father used to punish him if he required help with things such as academics – but _holy fuck_ was he contemplating doing so in that moment.

Zuko was ready to forfeit; he would much rather have a blank page, than a page full of lyrics that have no _life_ behind them. He closed the notebook, hooking his pen to the front cover. He had just decided he’d try again later when his phone buzzed on his nightstand; the thunderous sound made him startle, scaring the _absolute shit_ out of him. He leaned over the arm of the couch, just barely able to reach the device.

His face immediately lit up, Sokka had replied to him. He had sent a picture with an accompanying text that read:

**SOKKA: tired, but back at the grind ;)**

Zuko scrolled down, and his heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to drum louder in his chest, or stop beating altogether. The image showed Sokka sitting in his car, donned in his Flaming Beans apron. His head was tilted back and slightly to the side. His lips were parted in a subtle smile, the lid of a light blue Monster Energy can pressed gently against his lower lip. The early morning sunlight made his tanned skin _glow_ , allowing Zuko to see stubble along that perfectly cut jawline.

Despite how generally _pretty_ this man was, there was one feature on Sokka that Zuko just could not stop circling back to. _His eyes._ Those dynamic oceans, faintly dimmed and half-lidded from exhaustion, were staring right at the camera. Warm rays from the sun illuminated his irises in _just_ the right way, making them _burn_ like scalding blue flames. The sight practically punched the air out of Zuko’s lungs each time he took a glance.

Shaking himself out of the daze Sokka had put him in, Zuko took a deep breath to steel himself. He scrolled back up to the message the younger man had sent, then squinted at the apron he was wearing in the picture. Zuko’s brow furrowed, and he groaned as he realized what Sokka had done.

**ZUKO: Was that a fucking coffee pun?**

**SOKKA: you know it, babe~ ;)**

**ZUKO: I hope you know I’m rolling my eyes.**

**SOKKA: yeah, thats fair**

Zuko snorted, a grin nearly splitting his face in half. _This man is going to be the death of me_ , he resigned. Then it hit him, full force _right_ in his face; the imagined action left a tingling in its wake, spreading along his pale cheeks and crossing the bridge of his nose. He had to take a moment to realize just _what_ had hit him with such an overwhelming feeling: _inspiration._

He scrambled for his notebook, nearly flinging his pen across the room in his frenzy. He tore the journal open, scribbling stanza after stanza. Zuko didn’t want to stop once he started; he wasn’t sure he _could_ stop, even if he wanted to. His hand seemingly wielded a mind of its own as it scribed the _sappiest bullshit_ that had _ever_ reached a notebook in his possession.

His face finally relaxed as his hand slowed to a stop. He definitely had written enough for _two_ sickeningly affectionate love songs.

“ _Love songs,_ ” Zuko breathed in disbelief. His eyebrow raised; his good eye was as round as a dinner plate, while his scarred eye widened as far as it could go. He had never written a _love song_ before, he never got the opportunity to; he had no time for _crushes_ or _romance_ in his adolescence. And that made this all the more _exciting._ The butterflies in his stomach became nauseating at best, but downright _poisonous_ at worst. _Is this what romance feels like?_ He asked himself, _Is_ this _what all the hype is about? Could this be why they write movies and books and_ songs _about it?_ His chest ached with an overwhelmingly pleasant heat that rose to his cheeks, engulfing his entire face. His head felt light, the world softly spinning around him. The feeling was foreign, yet oddly familiar; it almost reminded him of the handful of times he swallowed a _few_ more tablets of his migraine medication than he was supposed to take. This was euphoric, intoxicating, _addicting._ Maybe he could forgo coffee from now on, only if it meant he could feel this everyday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zuko retracted his statement about sacrificing coffee. Sure, he actually felt pretty well rested after the wonderful sleep he had gotten the previous night. And _yeah,_ he experienced the most blissful adrenaline rush from realizing he was developing feelings for Sokka. But none of that could stop the fact a migraine was creeping its way up from the base of Zuko’s skull into his temples. This gave him justification for his coffee addiction, since caffeine eases headaches. Who knew? Or at least, that’s how he rationalized it to his therapist when asked about it.

The pain in his head was steadily spreading by the time he actually stood up from his nest on the couch. His body was screaming at him to get some caffeine into his system, and who was he to deny his own body what it craved? He nearly went to leave the apartment still in his sleep pants and loose band tee shirt, but then he remembered that car selfie he received hours ago. _Sokka’s working today,_ he thought. _I can’t let him see me in this!_

Tripping over his own feet more than once, he stumbled to his closet. He quickly found a nice burgundy flannel button down to throw over his band shirt, slipping on ripped black jeans to match. Taking a look in his full length mirror, he groaned. “Can I look any more _gay?_ ” he huffed, somewhat amused at his inability to choose outfits with at least a _little_ taste to them.

_Fuck it,_ he thought, decending the stairs that connected his and Iroh’s apartment to the tea shop below. _This is how I am, and if Sokka doesn’t like it he can leave._ Though he declared that to himself, his chest clenched worryingly at the thought of Sokka never talking to him again. _Chill out, Zuko, you’ve known him for a whopping three days now,_ he warned himself. _Remember, don’t get too attached._ He swallowed the lump that began to form in his throat. _He only wants you for your fame._

Those last seven words rang clear in his head, repeating in a constant loop as his feet marched him down the road. The familiar café slapped him back to his senses, making him realize he had arrived at Flaming Beans. It was just before noon, and the shop looked rather slow. He figured this was their stillness before a lunch rush; _the calm before the storm,_ as they call it.

One deep breath later, Zuko opened the door and entered the café. The aromas of each type of brew instantly settled his thoughts. He swiftly fell in line behind the only person waiting in front of the cash register: a man a few inches taller than Zuko. The guy had shaggy brown hair that rested just above the nape of his neck, showing off a patch of his cool chestnut skin. He wore a scuffed leather jacket, handmade and embroidered patches were sewn into the fabric.

Peeking around the man, Zuko finally spotted Sokka. He didn’t look stressed, necessarily, but he certainly wasn’t relaxed either. His brow was furrowed, lips quirked downwards in a frown as he concentrated on the drink in his hands. Just seeing him, especially with his features donning a seriousness Zuko had yet to witness, made those butterflies swarm in his gut again. He wished – not for the first time – that he could snuff this fondness out. He knew if he had to endure the full extent of these romantic feelings once more, he truly would get addicted to it. And he couldn’t allow himself to fall for this trick. _He only wants you for your fame._ Those words rang distinctly through his head yet again.

The distant sound of a name being called, and the stirring of the man in front of him walking, tore Zuko out of his own brain. His eyes snapped up, first locking onto Sokka: he was cleaning a few machines and counters, he recognized the actions as a sanitary routine done between customers. Then Zuko’s attention flicked to the man who had been ahead of him in line.

He had grabbed his coffee off the counter, and was heading back towards the entrance of the café. Zuko eyed the man up and down; he was rather handsome. His broad chest strained against a plain, rust-colored shirt. Toned legs were wrapped in navy blue skinny jeans, worn out combat boots climbed part way up his calves. As he walked past, his gaze met Zuko’s; charcoal eyes locked onto gold ones as the man sauntered across the shop’s lobby. He took a sip of his coffee, Adam’s apple bobbing. Zuko’s eyes traced the movement, then slid up his neck; his attention settled on a squared jawline briefly before finally landing on that intense gaze once more.

The man's eyes dragged down Zuko’s form, before returning to his face; he swore the guy spotted his scar behind the curtain of bangs covering the left half of his face. But for whatever reason, the stranger didn’t dwell on the area. Unnaturally thin eyebrows – _Agni, did this guy pluck them himself?_ – knit together briefly, eyes turning hungry and eager. His frown turned into a smirk that Zuko was sure meant something along the lines of: “I can _tell_ you’re checking me out, and you already know I’m doing the same, so why don’t we skip the pleasantries and get to the pleasuring?”

Zuko refused to acknowledge that look, he simply kept glaring at him. The stranger must have taken the hint that he was not interested. Golden eyes screamed “fuck off” as the man passed him and left the coffee shop. With him out of sight, Zuko took a deep, grounding breath and turned his attention ahead of him once more. Blue eyes were already locked on him, and he felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu at the fierce possessiveness they stabbed into him. However, this time felt different.

Zuko's stern feeling of _fuck off_ from mere moments prior had dissipated, replaced with a fleeting instinct of _fuck me._ Zuko cleared his throat to stop himself from repeating that notion aloud. Wild typhoons chained him in place, forcing him to keep staring at Sokka. Not that he was complaining, oh _fuck_ no, he absolutely _reveled_ in the unspoken magnetic pull between them.

Normally soft and wide eyes, full of excitement, were narrowed and calculated. A spark of jealousy had fanned into a dangerously furious flame. Zuko was finally able to breath again when Sokka’s grimace softened into an apologetic smile. The older man shuffled up to the cash register.

“Hi Zuko,” Sokka sighed, exasperated.

“Hey Sokka. Is everything alright?”

Sokka stiffened, an embarrassed flush engulfed his face. “Uh, yeah! I’m cool. I just,” he groaned, “really don’t like that guy.” He glanced around the lobby, then stage whispered, “I’m not supposed to talk bad about the customers.”

Zuko chuckled, his smile thawing Sokka’s harsh emotions, “Yeah, he seemed like a real asshole, not gonna lie.”

Sokka chuckled with him, but behind his content mask, his mind raced with increasing panic. _What even was that feeling? I know I’ve felt it before, but I can’t remember when or where,_ Sokka rambled internally. Thick eyebrows furrowed for a split second, then the word “ _jealousy_ ” slithered its way into his head, and suddenly everything _clicked._ His eyes met ones of pure honey, dripping with a sweet sincerity he had never witnessed firsthand.

Yellow eyes raked over Sokka’s expression, carefully dissecting the feelings hidden underneath to piece back together later. He felt helpless under that golden gaze as it _burned_ goosebumps into the surface of his skin. The way Zuko could look right through him left Sokka breathless, a swirling heat formed in his abdomen and– _Oh._ Oh _shit._ This wasn’t just infatuation anymore, was it?

_I like Zuko._

His mind went blank for a moment, his attention secured to the man in front of him. He closed his eyes, swallowing a deep breath to ground himself. When his eyes fluttered open, his gaze was automatically trained on Zuko’s face. And everything was right in the world, if only for just a moment. A warm smile eased its way across his lips, the older man reciprocating it.

After a second of basking in the giddy pleasantness of it all, Sokka startled as he remembered he was on the clock. “Oh yeah! Did you want your usual coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Zuko sighed, feeling the content aura radiating off of Sokka.

He started running through the motions of making coffee for Zuko. The two were now accustomed to the lingering glances they shared; the implicit tension that radiated over them was familiar, welcomed in fact. Each time yellow eyes locked onto blue ones, a jolt of euphoria rushed through each of their bodies.

Sokka broke the comfortable silence, “So, how are you today?”

“I’m a little tired, but other than that I’m doing alright.” Zuko offered him a soft smile, “How about yourself?”

“I’m great, now that you’re here! I didn’t think I’d see you back so soon. Can’t get enough of me, huh?” Sokka threw him a smirk and a playful wink, causing the older man to blush a light pink.

“Oh, um, I decided to take a break from, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat, “my poetry.” _Smooth,_ he internally deadpanned.

“So you came to see li’l ol’ me?” Sokka batted his eyelashes at him.

Snickering, Zuko snarked, “Don’t let it go to your head, I’m mostly here for the coffee.”

A mocking pout danced across Sokka’s lips, and Zuko had to _literally_ bite his tongue to refrain from vocalizing just how much he wanted to kiss that _pretty_ mouth. It’s a surprise his thoughts – deafening in his own head – hadn’t manifested a way to be broadcasted to Sokka yet.

“Have you thought about what you wanna do for our next date?”

Zuko perked up, his attention returning to the present. “Actually, I do have an idea, but uh, it might sound a little dumb.”

Sokka raised an eyebrow at him, grin tugging at his lips, “Do you know who you’re talking to? No idea is _too dumb_ for me.”

Chuckling, Zuko responded, “Okay, but remember it’s just an idea, and you can say no to it.” He mustered up the strength he required, glancing at Sokka’s patient and encouraging smile. He hurriedly decided he was ready for his idea to be rejected, then spoke once more, “There’s this book store in town that has a big CD section. I thought, maybe, we could go pick out an album for each other? And, uh, listen to them together, if you’d like?” He had turned an embarrassing shade of ruby by the time he had stumbled over the last few words.

The light that emanated from Sokka’s face was nearly blinding, immediately melting Zuko’s nerves. “Zuko, that’s literally _perfect!_ ” he enthused.

“You think so?” Zuko sighed with relief.

“Of course, dude! I can’t wait, we’re gonna have _so_ much fun!” Sokka finished making the coffee, placing a lid on it with _barely_ a tad more grace than the last time Zuko had witnessed him doing so.

Zuko took the drink from Sokka, a tender smile spreading across his features. “I can’t wait either.”

Sokka’s brain stuttered at the gorgeous display of Zuko’s smile; the only coherent words he could decipher from the clusterfuck of fleeting gay panic being “ _cute man_ ”. There was a sharp stab of bittersweetness when Sokka watched Zuko walk out the shop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Firecracker! Are ya listenin’?” Toph’s elbow sharply jabbing into Zuko’s side broke him out of his daze.

“Huh? Oh sorry, what did you say?” Zuko sheepishly responded.

Toph groaned, “What’s up with you today?”

“What do you mean? Nothing’s ‘up’.”

“You can’t lie to me. I could _feel_ how restless you are from your footsteps,” she declared.

Zuko huffed in frustration. She was right, he could never get away with lying to her. “Fine, you win.” He took a moment to gather the words he wanted to use – Toph rushed him with a “ _get on with it_ ” gesture – and spoke slowly and deliberately, “Toph, you’re into women, right?”

Toph’s eyebrows bunched together. “Yeah, what of it?”

“What do you do when you find a woman that is just so _beautiful_ it makes you physically sick?”

“Zuko. Look me in the eyes. Now ask me again what I do when _I_ find people attractive.”

Zuko glanced over at his friend, the cogs in his brain shaking off dust as they grinded against one another. In an instant, Zuko was sputtering out an apology, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t– I forgot you– Fuck, I should’ve– ”

Toph barked out a laugh and playfully punched his shoulder. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, I don’t give a shit.” Zuko released a sigh of relief, his initial mortified shock subsiding with Toph’s nonchalant disposition. “Usually when I find a lady I like, I try to fuck her. Then if we both have a good time, I ask her on a date.”

“I feel like that should be the other way around.”

“Eh. To each their own,” she shrugged. “Why’d you ask? You find someone you like?”

Zuko coughed nervously, but the stubborn lump in his throat didn’t budge. “I guess you could say that.”

“Ooh, who’s cock are you slobbering on?” she cooed.

Shushing her, Zuko frantically glanced around the tea shop. Thankfully, the only two patrons were too absorbed in their laptops to have heard her. With his face thoroughly flushed red, Zuko hissed through gritted teeth, “Who said it was a man?”

Scoffing, Toph dismissively waved a hand at him. “You started this off with ‘you’re into women, right?’. You could’ve screamed off the rooftops that you married a man, and it wouldn’t have been anywhere _near_ as obviously queer as that was.”

“It’s a pain in the ass how observant you are,” he grumbled.

“Well? Spill. Who’s the guy that’s got your boxers in a bunch?”

_She won’t stop until I talk about it, but I don’t want to out him in case he’s still in the closet,_ he thought. Zuko made it a point to avoid saying his name; he spoke delicately, “He’s a barista at the coffee shop I go to. He’s really nice and handsome, and _funny._ We actually went on a date yesterday, and have another one planned already. But everytime I think about him, my stomach churns. And Agni forbid I _look_ at the guy! It’s like time stops, and my chest tightens, and my knees shake, and– oh _fuck_ – “

Zuko buried his face in his hands, a guttural groan ripping out of him. Toph smirked – the absolute _asshole_ – and leaned back in her chair. “You’ve got it _bad_ , huh?”

“Toph, I am so _fucked,_ ” he whined behind his hands. “I can’t let myself,” he fumbled with his words for a second, “ _fall_ for him.”

“Why not?”

“He’s a fan.” Toph’s eyebrows raised with subtle shock, but Zuko merely continued, “He doesn’t know I’m, well, _me_ , as far as I know. But if he _does_ actually know it’s me, then he likely only wants me because I’m famous.” His voice trailed off into an anxious murmur.

Toph hummed in thought, “You said this guy works at a café?”

“Yeah, why?”

“What time is it?”

Zuko muttered, “Fine, ignore me then.” He sighed, checking his watch. “Five till seven. Why?”

“You should take me to that shop,” Toph stated, a grin tugging at her lips.

“I’m sorry?” he gawked at her incredulously.

“You should take me to that coffee shop,” she repeated. “I wanna meet this guy.”

Suspicion smeared across Zuko's expression, his eyes narrowing at his friend. Evidently, his silence spoke volumes, as Toph responded.

“What? He sounds fun. Besides, maybe I can help ya’ get in his pants,” she blasted a shit-eating grin in Zuko’s general direction.

Blushing, Zuko sighed in defeat. He growled, “Fine. But you _have_ to promise not to make it obvious you’re playing matchmaker.”

“Deal.”

Fifteen minutes of cleaning later, Zuko and his coworker had closed the Jasmine Dragon with minimal issues. With Badgermole’s harness in her right hand, and her left arm hooked around Zuko’s at the elbow, Toph let him guide them through the streets. A moderately stiff silence fell over them.

Uncomfortable in the stillness, Zuko spoke, “This is weird, we’ve never hung out anywhere but the tea shop.”

Toph shrugged, unbothered by his nerves. “No better time than the present, Fireball.”

Zuko hummed in agreement, using his free hand to pull his hair tie loose. Hair spilled down over his shoulders in a cascade of jet-black locks. He fiddled with his bangs, shifting them to cover the entire left side of his face. Downcast citrine eyes absently scanned the pavement below Zuko. He hated having to hide his face; however, nearly a decade ago, he decided it was better to stay anonymous than to have people stare.

His attention crawled from his troubled thoughts to the quickly approaching café. “We’re here. Remember, play it cool,” Zuko warned as he held the door open.

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t embarrass you _too_ bad,” Toph replied with a scoff, allowing Badgermole to lead her into the shop.

Zuko followed suit, nerves coursing through his veins. _Why am I so anxious? It’s not like I’m introducing a boyfriend to Uncle,_ he mused. An image of Sokka shaking Iroh’s hand the night prior flashed in his mind, making his heart perform a _flawless_ accelerando behind his ribcage.

His eyes landed on Sokka, and it’s a shock his heart didn’t _combust_ on sight. Zuko released a shaky breath when the barista turned to face himself and Toph; cobalt eyes blinked in astonishment, shifting between the two.

“Toph?!” Sokka gaped.

“Sup Snoozles.” Toph turned to look in Zuko’s direction, “I had a hunch you were talking about _him._ ”

The dots gradually connected in Zuko’s brain. “Wait,” he started, “you guys know each other?”

“I know every gay in this city.” She grinned, turning to face the cash register once more, “Nice catch, by the way. I’m impressed, Sokka.”

The two men simultaneously flushed a deep red. Blue met yellow as Sokka’s wide eyes met Zuko’s _equally as shocked_ ones. Toph strided up to the front counter.

“Hey Water Boy, ring me up for a large mocha frappé.”

Sokka chuckled lightly, “Coming right up, Your Highness.”

With him thoroughly distracted, Toph leaned towards Zuko. “Oh, about that thing you were worried about? Yeah don't sweat it, he's not that kind of guy." She whispered, "And he's really oblivious, in all honesty."

Zuko’s eyebrow raised, eyes widening. His lips moved aimlessly, but no words came out. A web of thoughts began weaving in his brain, coming to the conclusion of: _Sokka won’t use me? But how can I be sure? Toph is usually really good at gauging people, of course. But what if she’s wrong this time?_

Blue eyes snapped to him; they were wide with wonder and endearment. The corners of Sokka’s eyes crinkled slightly as he flashed Zuko a large grin, his face _unbelievably_ soft. _I don’t want to let this chance slip from me,_ he heard in his head, the words loud and clear. This felt bizarre and _unique_ , unlike anything he had experienced before.

Well, that’s not entirely true. The events of that morning replayed in his mind, the warmth that currently resided in his chest becoming more and more familiar as it radiated throughout his entire body; a tingling heat inched its way to his fingertips, a good portion heading down to pool in his stomach before moving lower, _lower,_ oh _fuck no,_ we are _not_ doing this here!

Zuko shook his head, pulling his thoughts out of the horny gutter. Sokka had long returned his attention back to making Toph’s drink – he appeared to be struggling with getting the flavors mixed right – but Zuko just could _not_ take his eyes off him. Golden irises raked over strong biceps peeking behind short sleeves. _Does he work out?_ His eyes landed on a crescent moon tattoo on his left wrist, peeking behind a couple braided bracelets. _Woah, I didn’t notice that yesterday._ His gaze wandered to the seashell choker that hugged his throat, hovering a couple inches above sharp collarbones. _I wonder what his neck feels like under my tongue._

Zuko had thoroughly flustered himself, but he couldn’t look away. Each time he glanced at Sokka, he noticed something new. He willed his cheeks to _quit fucking burning_ as he attempted to stifle his attraction for just a moment. _Maybe I can let myself see where this goes. I want to at least try to have some fun. Just this once._

“ –ko. Zuko?” Realizing the lips he had been staring at were the ones speaking, Zuko snapped out of his trance.

“Earth to Sparkler!” Toph nudged Zuko’s shoulder. “Stop being gay for two fucking seconds and answer your man.”

Zuko cleared his throat, and _yeah there was no way his face wasn’t a bright crimson._ “Sorry, what did you say, Sokka?”

Sokka’s expression shifted for just a second, the change so quick Zuko initially thought he imagined it. A conflicting mixture of serenity, pride, and embarrassment painted his face, coating his features with a soft radiating warmth. As quickly as it appeared, the look dissolved into the goofy grin Sokka wore most.

“I asked if you wanted your usual order?” the barista offered.

“Oh, um, yes please,” Zuko replied meekly. _Yup,_ he concluded, _I am utterly fucked._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"SUKI!" Sokka cried, throwing the apartment door open.

Suki, fully draping herself over Ty Lee on the sofa, called back, "WHAT, SOKKA?!"

He threw himself onto a recliner adjacent to the women, looking like he could actually burst into tears at any moment. "I am _so FUCKED!_ " he sobbed, hiding his face behind his hands.

"What's wrong?" Ty Lee asked, passing a concerned look between the two roommates.

Suki, completely unphased, glanced up at Ty Lee from her lap, "Sokka's having his first case of bisexual distress."

"Ooh!" Ty Lee perked up, cooing, "Who's the lucky man?"

Sokka risked a glance at Ty Lee, groaning with embarrassment as she wiggled her eyebrows at him. He took a deep breath, fully aware he was about to get caught in a ramble.

"He's this really _hot,_ brooding, mysterious guy from that tea shop a few blocks down from Flaming Beans, and honestly? I will _never_ be able to smell jasmine again without my thoughts trailing back to his _fucking gorgeous_ eyes. And his long black hair, oh my _spirits_ I just wanna run my fingers through it and see if it feels as velvety as it looks. Ugh, but the way his bangs cover that scar when he's not at work breaks my heart, and makes me wanna just kiss that cheek and tell him he's beautiful– "

"Wait, wait, wait," Ty Lee cut him off, her open palm raised and facing him. "Scar?"

Suki and Sokka both glanced at her expectantly. "Um, yeah. A big one over his left eye," Sokka replied, holding a hand over his own eye for emphasis.

A spark of _something_ – recognition, maybe? – flashed through Ty Lee's expression before she grinned. "Hmm, how mysterious," she purred. "Are you guys dating yet?"

Sokka opened his mouth to answer, but then froze. He tried to gather his thoughts to avoid blurting out his eagerness. He hummed, "No, we only went on one date so far. But I _would_ like to see where this goes."

"That's a pretty eloquent way of saying 'I don't wanna freak him out, but I also wanna make out with him ASAP'," Suki chuckled.

“Thank you," he flashed her a cheeky smile, “I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“As you should; it’s a talent,” Suki teased. “Did you guys decide on a second date yet?”

Sokka’s face exploded into a wide grin. “Yeah! He suggested we go to this one store with a big music section, and pick out a CD for each other. Then we’re gonna listen to them together!”

“That’s such a cute idea!” Ty Lee chirped, her hands absently combing through Suki’s hair.

“Let me guess, he found the hoard of CDs in your car?” Suki joked.

Pointing a finger at her, Sokka retorted, “He didn’t _find_ it, I showed it to him. He seemed rather impressed with my collection, especially The Blue Spirit ones. Though, he did accuse me of pirating, which I resent.”

Ty Lee sharply inhaled through his nose, the sound barely audible. “What did he say about those albums?”

Suki shot her a look that Sokka could only assume translated to “what does that even mean?”; Ty Lee silently replied with eyes that likely said “I’ll tell you about it later.” Sokka squinted, confused at their inaudible sapphic language.

“Um, he said he was a fan of TBS?” he said, though it was obviously more quizzical than declarative.

After a beat of silence, Ty Lee snorted from laughter. “Of course he is, what a nerd,” she chortled with endearment.

“Do you know him?” Sokka asked, suspicion growing in the back of his mind.

She hummed, “Sort of. You could say he’s a friend of a friend.” She glanced down at Suki, her cedar-colored eyes transmitting paragraphs to her girlfriend.

Sokka made a mental note to interrogate Suki about this interaction at a later time. “Okay? Well, um, I’ll leave you love birds to whatever antics you get up to,” Sokka stated, standing up from his chair. He stepped into his room and called over his shoulder, “Try not to shake the walls too bad. I had a long shift and the last thing I need to hear is y’all shaggin’ while I’m trying to sleep.”

Behind his door, he heard a muffled “Hey!” from Suki, accompanied by Ty Lee’s giggling. Sokka barely gathered enough energy to strip out of his work clothes, throwing on a clean-ish tank top. He collapsed onto his bed, a pleased groan trickled out of the back of his throat as his body relaxed into the soft mattress. He closed his eyes, allowing his fatigue to swallow him whole right where he laid.

Right before he fully drifted off into a motionless sleep, his phone pinged. Lifting his head from the _heavenly_ pillow, Sokka reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the device.

**ZUKO: I can’t believe you know Toph. What a small world.**

Sokka chuckled, the movement threatening to cause a headache.

**SOKKA: like she said, she knows every gay in this city lmao**

**ZUKO: I hadn’t even told her I was gay before this afternoon. Must be a sixth sense.**

He snorted, the grin that had sprouted made his cheeks ache.

**SOKKA: dont you mean fifth sense?**

**SOKKA: pls laugh, im going to hell for that one :,)**

**ZUKO: I’m ashamed to say I laughed. Can we carpool to Hell?**

**SOKKA: only if i can choose the playlist for the roadtrip**

**ZUKO: Your music taste is palatable; you’ve got yourself a deal.**

**SOKKA: you wont regret it!**

Declaring their banter over for the time being, Sokka closed his phone and then his eyes. He grabbed the extra pillow he had kept on his bed, holding it close to his chest as he drifted off into a tranquil rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday today! I was gonna say something about "oh this is my present to you all!" but then I realized I'm a dumbass, cause the guests don't get the presents. So consider this chapter my cake that I'm sharing with you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I don't know when I'll be releasing the next chapter, but I'm aiming for the next couple weeks, so keep an eye out for it!  
> Until next time, Zukka nation! <3


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